


Her Eyes Closed, She Sleeps

by Winnett



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Character Death, Dubious Consent, F/M, Incest, Masturbation, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rape/Non-con Elements, Vaginal Fingering, no violence, sexual acts on someone who is sleeping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-22 23:16:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23001979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winnett/pseuds/Winnett
Summary: I know she's sleeping because her eyes are closed.
Relationships: Ginny Weasley/Ron Weasley, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley
Kudos: 53





	Her Eyes Closed, She Sleeps

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2008 because I was bitten by a plot bunny. Vicious bunny. One line in this story is taken from a Panic At the Disco song.

I slide my fingers into my sister as she sleeps. Her eyes are closed so I know she is sleeping. First one finger, then the other, up to the palm of my hand, and I wriggle them inside of her, like a tender massage. Her breathing changes, but her eyes are still closed. I twist and flex my fingers, curl them up, brush them against her pliable walls, and she arches into my touch. But I know she is still sleeping because her eyes are closed. I press against her clitoris with my thumb and finally, in silent death, she comes, body convulsing, her pussy gripping at my fingers. She falls silent, eyes still closed. She slept through it all. 

I—her brother—I did this to her… gave this to her.

Today I don't leave after she's finished. Sometimes I do, but not today. 

Today I pull out my fingers and inhale her scent. Her smell lingers and I love the taste. I run my tongue up and down each digit, wrap it around my knuckles and then thrust my wet hand down my pants, rubbing the combination of her come and my spit all over my cock as I finish myself off. It doesn't take much. I charm us clean, re-clothe her, and then lay down next to her in the bed and sleep. In the morning she is gone, downstairs cooking breakfast. 

I do this to her during the night as she sleeps. 

~~~

My brother comes down the stairs, all smiles and levity. My heart lurches because I have to pretend. He can't really think I'm sleeping as he fingers me off every night. He can't really think that, can he? 

I don't even want to think of what others would say. Everyone is so busy so it's just us, and I can't imagine what they would say.

He pretends nothing happens, so I pretend too and scrape some bacon and eggs onto a plate for him. We chat and eat and avoid the elephant. My pussy lips throb as I catch his scent, musky with a hint of his actions from last night that escaped the cleaning charm, but I keep my voice light and my smile simple, and we eat and talk and then leave for work.

He can't really think I was sleeping.

~~~

I get home late and she's already asleep. I sit at the foot of her bed just watching her. Her breathing is steady, and I know she's sleeping. She rolls over on her back and snorts a little as she settles into her dreams.

Slowly, I pull back the duvet and sheet, careful to not wake her. Her breathing stalls a moment, but then continues at a steady pace. She is sleeping. She wears a t-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts. They look like mine, though they're probably Harry's. 

I reach up to the waistband of the shorts and slowly pull them down, so careful. Her eyes are closed, so I know I haven't disturbed her. I pull them off and her legs fall open for me, and I can see her lips through her red bush. My sister's red bush…

I rub my middle finger along her folds. My nail catches on her delicate skin because she is dry, but I know that won't last long. I suck on my finger and then rub her again, dipping in every so often, feeling her slippery wetness building up. Finally, I press my finger in all the way, push it in deep and her body tilts. I freeze, but she is silent, and her eyes are closed. My heart beats again. She still sleeps as I do this to her, as I thrust my finger into her, a gentle, loving thrust. 

I only do it to relieve tension. We are all tense, and this is what I can do for her. Without me seeming like an overprotective brother.

I add my second finger and then rub at her clitoris. Her legs quiver, and I lean in close to breathe her in. In and out my fingers go, and then I wriggle them inside her and rub at her sensitive nub. Is she thinking of Harry? Does she dream of some other man? Over and over I plunge inside of her, and she silently comes, body tense, breathing stalled as she rides out the orgasm, gripping my fingers inside of her.

I wait till she's relaxed and pull them out. She smells so good. I look down at her and see that her eyes are closed. I didn't wake her, which is a relief. I don't know how I would explain this. I don't think anybody would understand.

I push my pants haphazardly down past my hips and rub my sticky fingers all over my cock and pump hard, my eyes darting from her wet pussy to her closed eyes, keeping quiet as I shoot into my other hand, catching every drop so as not to make a mess. 

I lean forward and kiss her on her forehead before I leave her room for my own.

~~~

We eat breakfast, and I smile and he smiles and my pussy throbs. I'm always wet when he's around, his presence so large, like his hands, like his body. It's wrong. What is he doing to me? This is my brother. It's not normal.

Harry comes over later that morning, and he and Ron hug and chat and smile, and I stand there and wait for their greeting to end. Harry kisses me and I kiss him back, my eyes constantly seeking out Ron to see his reaction, but he just smiles. Nothing amiss... Nothing wrong…

I say goodbye, and Ron hugs me and then Harry. Harry says goodbye and Ron says goodbye, and finally we leave. I turn my head to look at Ron before I pass through the door, and I see him watching me, his usual smile gone, naked longing remaining.

Harry takes me to his flat and he kisses me. I kiss him back but my body feels muted and finally I push him away. We've had sex once, but afterward I told him that I wasn't ready for that kind of intimacy. He's been great, understanding, and hasn't asked again. Hasn't pushed me at all. 

We lie on his couch cuddling, watching TV 'til I yawn and tell him I'm going home. He looks at me uncertainly and stutters out a request that I stay there tonight, assuring me that he won't try anything, just that he doesn't want to be alone. I understand and nod. None of us wants to be alone. We go to bed together. 

I can't get to sleep though. I lie there and count the stars blinking on the charmed ceiling.

Seventy-seven. Seventy-eight. Seventy-nine.

~~~

Hermione was killed. Voldemort was killed, too, but the important fact was that Hermione was killed. So many people died. Harry survived. Ginny survived. I survived. But not Hermione.

She used to love it when I would eat her out, my fingers fucking her hard as I sucked on her clitoris. She would push my face firmly into her crotch as I ate away. It was no burden; I loved the feast. And she was so loud; she'd scream at the top of her lungs when she came. And then I would wrap her in my arms, and we would just lie there together. Content.

She told me that sex always relaxed her, released the tension of the war. As our friends fell around us, we clung to each other, finding something together that we couldn't apart.

We rarely had intercourse; mainly it was oral or a mutual wank. She had a way with my cock, coaxing out the longest orgasms I'd ever had before. She had such good fingers. Gentle, crafty fingers.

I couldn't save her. 

She's dead now. Been 'bout six months. She's dead…

I can't lose anyone else.

~~~

I come home, and find Ron making breakfast. He's whistling and I think that maybe everything is okay. That something has shifted in the world and everything will be normal.

He looks up at me as I walk into the room and he smiles and I smile and everything seems ordinary. He asks me about my night, and I tell him about the movie and we make plans for the afternoon and everything just seems so damned normal.

Like it should be.

~~~

She was gone last night. I can't stand it when she leaves. I worry. I know Harry will protect her, but I've already lost one best friend, I don't want to lose my sister. I can't lose my sister.

And that night, I go to her again. I can't help myself. I have to assure myself that she is whole and real and right there. I pull back the duvet and see that she is lying there, naked. Naked. She's never slept in the nude before, and I wonder if she sleeps naked with Harry.

I run my hand up her thigh, giving a slight push to open them up—open up for me. Her leg shifts to one side and she groans a little, nuzzling into her pillow. She is whole and healthy.

Something inside me tells me this is wrong, but something else inside of me doesn't really know what is right or wrong, real or imaginary anymore. This is just life—pure life and I want to cherish that.

~~~

His fingers slide into me and I concentrate on my breathing, trying to keep it steady, trying to hide that I'm not really asleep. His fingers are so gentle; he's caressing me. They work me over, and I groan as I focus on keeping my eyes shut. I can't be silent, but maybe he will still think I'm asleep, dreaming of a skillful lover. My eyes are closed so he doesn't realize that I'm not sleeping.

This isn't normal, but it's what we have.

This isn’t normal.

But could it be okay?

~~~

She's coming, her body quivering around me, and I finally pull out my fingers and stuff them in my mouth, sucking them in whole. I like her taste, my sister. I stare at her wet pussy, and I’m ready to grip my cock and pull myself off. I look up from her crotch to her face to make sure she is still sleeping.

I gasp.

Her eyes are open.

The end


End file.
